Copyright© 2004 by Carlos Malenkov

You walk into a room full of strangers and every eye in the place is on you. You think maybe you left your fly open or there's a huge food stain on your shirt. Those women over there by the wall are laughing, and you're dead certain you're the one they're laughing at.

You're feeling like a two-headed freak and unsure of yourself, and you need a woman so bad, if only for reassurance that you're still part of the human race. That's the reason you came to this damned party, even though you hate parties with a passion.

Over there! Over in the far corner a woman is standing all by herself. Yes, so maybe she's fat, quite a bit chubbier than contemporary fashion allows, and maybe that's why she's by herself. Could be she's a social outcast... just like you.

You walk over and catch her eye.

"Hello there, party person. Cold in here, huh?"

"Well, actually, I find it uncomfortably warm. And, should I know you from somewhere?"

"The emotional temperature, I mean. People here seem intent on freezing the two of us out. And no, you don't know me... But that can be easily remedied."

She lowers her head and stares at the floor. Maybe she's run out of words. Or maybe she's just uncomfortable looking at you. So where do you go from here?

"We have something in common," you say. "Maybe you could help me figure out what it is."

"I don't... "

She's crying, softly. Maybe you pushed her too far, too fast. But there are definitely possibilities here.

"Neither of us belongs here," you say. "Let's go out on the patio, where we can talk without all those cold, unfriendly eyes on us."

You sit on opposite ends of the bench. She's painfully shy, you think. But you already knew that.

"So, where do we go from here?" you say.

"We don't seem to be going anywhere at the moment. Just sitting on this cold marble bench."

"And the stars don't burn with cold fire in the night sky. And my heart doesn't beat loudly in my chest. And cold sweat isn't trickling down my back. And I'm not tense and nervous sitting near a woman that I don't dare reach out to. And I'm not a bloody fool, now am I?"

"And the words finally flow, do they not?" she murmurs softly.

And she reaches out a hand to you. And you take it.

And so it begins.